


Hiding Places

by prepare4trouble



Series: Little By Little [48]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dokma Racing, Ezra likes to hide, Friendship, Gen, Misunderstandings, Visually Impaired Ezra Bridger, apparently so do other people, trying to move forward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-29 04:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17801393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepare4trouble/pseuds/prepare4trouble
Summary: Having decided that he needs something to do around the base until he's approved for duty again, Ezra tries to find Hera to discuss his options. Unfortunately, Hera seems to be just as good at hiding as Ezra is.





	1. Chapter 1

Ezra sat on the ground behind the storage crate, the place where he and Hobbie conducted their dokma science experiments. There were no dokma around today; since the migration had finished and the numbers of the creatures around the base had dropped down to more manageable levels, it was becoming increasingly difficult to find one in a convenient location. Not that it mattered today, he wasn’t there for the dokma.

Footsteps approached from behind him and he recognized Hobbie’s presence in the Force. His friend approached quickly, then ducked behind the crate. Hobbie froze, blinked in confusion, then smiled. “Oh, hey,” he said. “We weren’t supposed to meet up today, were we?”

Ezra shook his head. “I didn’t think so,” he said. “Until you showed up.”

Hobbie grinned sheepishly. “Honestly, I was just looking for a place to sit for a few minutes.” He glanced around. “Doesn’t look like there’s any dokma around again.”

“No, not around here anyway,” Ezra said. He wasn’t sure whether Hobbie was just making a comment, or whether he was actually telling Ezra about the lack of dokma. Other than Hera and Kanan, and  _maybe_  Sabine and Zeb, Hobbie was probably the one person on the base with the best idea of what he could and couldn’t see, and one thing that he often couldn’t see were dokma against the color of the desert.

He could, however, sense them using the Force, and after so long concentrating on the creatures, it had almost become second nature to locate them in that way. He barely needed to look for them with his eyes anymore.

Now, if only he could achieve that with everything else…

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” he added. “I mean, I’m still working on trying to make them do what I want them to, but it’s probably more important to practice connecting to them when people are around. You know, being able to carry on talking to people or doing other things at the same time, so they don’t notice what I’m doing.”

It wasn’t  _so_  important yet, not with the dokma moving as slowly as they did. If someone was talking to him, he could simply break the connection and go back to it later. It would be different in the future, when he couldn’t see the dokma, when he had to locate the right color among the others on the track. They hadn’t come up with a way around that yet, but it was definitely going to be more difficult, and he didn’t want to be continuously breaking and remaking his connection. 

Hobbie frowned. “Hey, I’m people,” he said. “I can tell you if you look suspicious.”

“You’re  _one_  person, and you already know what I’m doing. I want to try with people that don’t.” Hobbie might be right though, it might be better to try it out in private first. But not now. “I’m not here for the dokma today anyway,” he added. “It was just a place to go.”

He had spent hours that morning wandering around the base looking for Hera, eventually he had gotten bored and given up. Rather than go home to the Ghost, he had decided to sit outside. Since Chopper Base was a little short on outdoor seating, he had headed here so that he wouldn’t be in the way.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on shift now, anyway?” Ezra asked. Pilots were always on-call to fly when needed, but they didn’t just get to hang out around the base when they weren’t flying a mission, there was other work to do.

Hobbie shook his head. “Day off,” he said. “I don’t have to work every single day, you know.”

Ezra had known that of course. Nobody could be expected to put in their best if they had to work every single moment of every day. People weren’t droids, they needed to rest sometimes.

“Talking of,” Ezra said, “this might be  _my_  last day off for a while.”

Hobbie frowned, temporarily puzzled before he thought he understood and the expression turned to a wide grin. “You mean you’ve been…”

“No.” Ezra cut him off quickly. He hadn’t been approved for duty again, and he didn’t want to hear somebody say it when it wasn’t true. “I was just thinking maybe I’d ask about other jobs I could do around the base.”

Hobbie looked like he wasn’t sure what to say to that. He rubbed a hand over his face and behind his neck, then looked at Ezra searchingly. “What kind of other jobs?”

That, of course, was the question. He didn’t answer right away, he didn’t really have an answer to give.

“I mean,” Hobbie continued at the silence, “you’re still trying to get back on missions as well, right? You’re not giving up on…”

“No,” Ezra interrupted him again before he could finish. That was exactly what he had been worried about; that people were going to think it was over. That he couldn’t be trusted on missions anymore, so he had to be given something else to do. Something where he would be safe. “No,” he repeated. “I’m not giving up on anything. As soon as I get a bit better at…” he hesitated, “at the stuff Kanan’s showing me, things’ll get back to normal.” Some semblance of it, anyway.

“Then why do you want to do something else? Wouldn’t you be better spending the time practicing the stuff instead?”

Ezra shook his head. “Sure,” he said. “If I want to go insane. You try spending six hours a day practicing walking around with your eyes shut, see how you like it.”

Hobbie folded his arms and at least had the decency to look embarrassed for a moment. He didn’t apologize though, and Ezra was glad of that. “Most standard shifts are eight hours,” he said, “with a break for lunch.”

“Eight hours then. Fine. Whatever. I’d still rather spend some of that time doing something useful than… you know.”

“Some people would say the ‘you know’ is useful. But hey, what do I know?”

Ezra let his head fall backward until it bumped gently against the wall of the storage crate that shielded them from the view of the rest of the base. Hobbie was right of course, but so was Ezra. He did need to practice the skills Kanan was trying to teach him, and he  _was_  practicing, but he couldn’t spend every moment doing it. Anyway, he couldn’t help but feel that if his day had a little more structure he might even get more done.

Or at the very least, have a good excuse on those days when he just didn’t have the energy to practice.

“What are you going to ask to do, though?” Hobbie asked. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but outside of Jedi-ing and talking to dokma, what are you good at?”

“Hey, I’ve got skills!” Ezra told him.

“Like?”

He frowned, thoughtful. Years of watching Hera had turned him into a decent team leader. He was confident in his decision making skills. He wasn’t a bad fighter either, even discounting ‘Jedi-ing’, and his piloting was… or at least  _had been_ , coming along. All very useful in the field, but not so much around the base.

He straightened his spine against its desire to slump, drawing himself up to his full, seated, hight, and tried to project an air of confidence. “I’m a pretty decent pickpocket,” he said. “I can pick locks too.”

Hobbie nodded. “Great, they’re both gonna be really useful around the base. I was only saying the other day, it’s been too long since I had my pockets picked.”

Ezra scowled, but Hobbie wasn’t wrong. “Honestly, I don’t care what I do. I’m just going to ask to be put on the general duty roster or something. I spent about three hours looking for Hera so I could talk to her about it, but apparently she’s better at hiding than  _I_  am.”

“Did you check her ship?” Hobbie suggested.

Ezra nodded. The Ghost had been the first place Ezra had looked, simply because he had begun looking shortly after waking up. He hadn’t expected to find her there, not really. “She doesn’t spend a lot of time there anymore,” he said. “Nobody does. Back before we were based here I could almost guarantee I’d find her in the cockpit or in the lounge.”

There was a reason for that of course; before they were on the base she didn’t have many other places to go.

“What about over in repairs and mechanics? She was working with some of the pilots a few days ago, teaching them how to do some emergency repairs, she could be there again.”

“Tried that too,” Ezra said. “I’m pretty sure I tried everywhere.”

It felt strange not to know where one of the Ghost crew was. For years it had been just the six of them, living in close quarters. It had been practically impossible to avoid another person unless you tried  _really_  hard. Now, instead of being a few rooms over, that person could be anywhere on the base. On the planet, even.

“She definitely didn’t go off-world, did she?” Hobbie asked.

For a moment, Ezra wondered, then dismissed the idea. For one thing, both the Ghost and the Phantom were exactly where they were supposed to be, and Hera wouldn’t go anywhere without at least one of them. For another, although Ezra had been a little out of the loop lately, he wasn’t so far out that he wouldn’t have heard about it if something were happening that would take Hera off-base

“No, she’d have told me,” he said.

Even if she couldn’t take him with her, she  _would_  have let him know. No, she was on the base somewhere, Ezra just had no idea where.

He sighed and slumped slightly. “Maybe she really  _is_  hiding,” he said.

“Captain Syndulla doesn’t strike me at the type to hide away just to avoid being seen by other people.” Hobbie told him. “That’s more  _your_  thing.”

“I’m not hiding,” Ezra said defensively. “I just happen to be sitting in the dokma training spot.”

Which just happened to be invisible to the rest of the base, but that wasn’t why he was there. It had just been a convenient place to go.

Hobbie laughed. “Don’t be so defensive; I didn’t mean right now. I just meant of the two of you, you’re the one most likely to squeeze yourself into some uncomfortable hiding place to avoid having to talk to people. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Ezra really hoped Hobbie hadn’t found one of his hiding spots. It wasn’t like his friend would go around telling anybody else if he had, or like he would disturb him there, but they were private. And two of them  _did_  require squeezing in.

“If Hera had a hiding place, it wouldn’t be like that,” he said.

“No?”

“Of course not. She wouldn’t even think of it as a hiding place. It’d just be a quiet place to work. Somewhere she wouldn’t be interrupted.” He was already trying to think of places like that, somewhere he wouldn’t have thought to look for her. None sprung to mind. But then, that would be the point, wouldn’t it?

Hobbie frowned. “You’re trying to think of hiding places she’d use, aren’t you?”

“No.” Ezra sighed. “Nah, she’s probably just moving around the base, that’s why I can’t find her. She’s busy with different jobs, mission debriefs, planning new campaigns… running a squadron can’t be easy.” He paused, then looked away. “Especially when your Jedi keep going blind.”

Hobbie didn’t reply, and Ezra deliberately didn’t meet his eyes, but he could sense a flicker of awkward amusement through the Force.

“I guess that’s true,” Hobbie said carefully.

They sank into silence for a moment. It stretched on a little too long, but it was comfortable enough to cope with.

“You could always radio her,” Hobbie said after a while. “You know, just to ask where she is, or see if you could schedule a meeting.”

Ezra shook his head. There was no reason why he  _couldn’t_  do that, they all carried their comms devices with them most of the time so they could be contacted in an emergency, but this wasn’t an emergency. Really, the devices were for use in the field, and he was sure receiving a call like that would immediately set her on edge.

Kanan had done it, when they had decided the time was right to tell Hera about Ezra’s sight, but that was… it had been a special case, and it wasn’t a memory he wanted to revisit.

“Nah,” he said. “It’s not like that, Hera’s family; you don’t schedule meetings with family.”

He stretched and got to his feet. He supposed he could have contacted her by sending a message to her datapad instead, the same way Noisi had been trying with him. He doubted she would ignore it or avoid opening it like he had, but to do that, he would have to return to his quarters to retrieve his own device, and in the process see the message that he was trying to ignore.

He definitely didn’t mind putting  _that_  off for a little while longer.

“I’ll catch her sometime, it’s probably best not to track her down when she’s busy anyway. I’m pretty hungry; I’m gonna go see if they have anything left in the commissary. Wanna come?”

Hobbie shook his head. “Lunch was hours ago. You’ll be lucky if there’s anything left by now.”

Ezra’s stomach growled at the idea of being denied food. He hadn’t realized it had gotten that late. Either he had been looking for Hera for longer than he had realized, or he had spent longer than he intended sitting behind the storage crate staring out over the desert.

“I’m gonna give it a try,” he said. If Hobbie was right, there was probably something in the kitchen on the Ghost instead. Failing that, he had his own stash of ration bars in his quarters. He waved a quick goodbye to Hobbie and headed back to base. As he did, he felt something knock against his thigh. Instinctively, he reached a hand down and touched the smooth round surface of the folded cane Kanan had given him just a few days earlier. It had been better concealed than that, but must have worked its way loose while he had been sitting.

He turned quickly, hoping it had gone unnoticed by Hobbie, then hurried away.

“See you at the races tonight?” Hobbie called after him.

He didn’t want to turn back. Pretending not to have heard, Ezra didn’t reply. He walked swiftly in the direction of the commissary, pushing the cane out of view again as he did.


	2. Chapter 2

It turned out Hobbie had been right; lunch was well and truly over. Only a few stragglers remained, sitting in small groups or alone, talking quietly over empty bowls. Most of the room had been cleaned up after the meal, the tables wiped down and chairs neatly tucked away underneath. The sharp scent of cleaning fluid assaulted Ezra’s nose; it almost obliterated the spicy smell of the soup that had permeated the air outside the building.

Commissary food was kept at the front of the room for people to take what they wanted. Today, the table was disappointingly empty; a single, large pot placed on top of a heating element. Next to it was a small pile of unused bowls, assorted spoons, forks and other eating implements from various worlds, and an empty tray that had probably, at the beginning of lunchtime, contained some kind of bread.

Ezra made his way over and peered a little apprehensively into the pot. Some soup was left. Not much, but enough. He grabbed a bowl and a spoon, and carefully ladled in a portion. It looked thick and filling, and it was still hot enough to warm his hands through the bowl.

He turned to face the room, a large; featureless space filled with tables and chairs. That was when he noticed that sitting alone at a table in the corner, her back to the door, was Hera.

Ezra hesitated. She wasn’t supposed to be here. He had given up on finding her for the day, resigned himself to the idea that he would have to leave it until the next day, or at the very least that evening. He had been relieved to be putting it off; a fact that he hadn’t realized until that moment.

He squinted, trying to improve the image before his eyes. Maybe he was wrong, maybe his faulty vision was playing tricks on him and it wasn’t Hera at all. But it was. Even if his eyes had been misleading him, he could sense her presence now. His skills didn’t yet extend to using the Force to find somebody, but she was familiar enough to him that he could recognize her Force signature when she was right in front of him.

He had two options: talk to her and get it done with, or sit and eat his soup then sneak out without her noticing. Option two felt easier right now. He  _did_  want to talk to her, but he was hungry, and he had just come here to eat his lunch. He could talk to her anytime.

He made his way to the nearest table, well out of her line of sight, and pulled the chair out as quietly as he could, to avoid attracting attention. He sat down, carefully tasted his soup, then hungrily gulped down a couple of spoonfuls.

As he ate, he couldn’t help but glance in Hera’s direction. She still had her back to him. It would be easy to finish his meal and slink away unnoticed, but guilt gnawed at him as he contemplated it. He needed to speak to her, and if he did it now, at least it would be over with. He wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore. He didn’t want to spend another day wandering around the base searching for her. Especially not if he was going to chicken out at the last minute like he had done just now.

He needed something to do. He needed to feel useful again.

He needed to do this, before he changed his mind and spent another couple of weeks doing nothing.  He took a deep breath and stood decisively, before he could change his mind. Taking his bowl with him, he walked, hesitantly at first, then more purposefully, in her direction. He stopped at Hera’s side and cleared his throat. “Hey Hera. Got a minute?”

Hera flinched in surprise at the unexpected intrusion. She recovered quickly, but couldn’t completely cover the reaction, and Ezra felt a stab of sympathy. He knew exactly what it was like to have people popping up from outside of his field of vision, and it could be nerve-wracking.

He winced. “Sorry.”

Hera straightened the pile of flimsi that she had knocked with her hand when she jumped, and turned and shook her head dismissively. “That’s okay,” she said. “My own fault, I was lost in mission reports.”

She wasn’t eating. She didn’t even have a used bowl or a cup to indicate that she  _had_  been eating. Instead, her datapad lay on the table in front of her, with the small stack of printed flimsi to her left; she seemed to be using the table as some kind of impromptu office.

Ezra walked around to the other side of the table, where she could see him without having to turn her head. “I’d been wondering whether anyone else had places they go to hide,” he said. This was a good one. Not for him, he preferred his hiding places more… hidden, but for Hera it was perfect. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it earlier.

“I’m not hiding,” Hera told him. “People don’t tend to come in here outside of mealtimes, it’s a nice quiet place to work.”

Ezra grinned to himself. ‘Quiet place to work’, exactly as he had told Hobbie. He had been right. “Well, it works as a hiding place,” he said. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find you?”

Hera tensed again. “Has someone been looking for me?” she asked. “Has something happened?” She reached for her comms device and checked its status. The worry drained from her face when she found it switched on and functional.

“No, nothing like that. Just me,” Ezra assured her. “I, uh…” He put his bowl down on the table, pulled out a chair and sat down opposite her. He began to stir the edge of his soup slowly.

“What is it?” Hera asked him. Ezra dragged his gaze upward to find her watching him with obvious but misplaced concern. She thought something was wrong.

“It’s nothing like that. I’m fine,” he promised her. It didn’t appear to reassure her.

A sudden increase in volume from the other side of the room reminded him that they weren’t alone, and he glanced around to make sure nobody was interested in them. Nobody was even glancing their way. He lowered his voice to avoid being overheard anyway. “Honestly, Hera, I’m okay. I just wanted to talk to you about…” He hesitated, not sure how to say what he wanted.

Hera waited. She didn’t try to hurry him, or to guess what he might be trying to say. She was still worried about him, he could sense it through the Force.

“It’s nothing important,” he promised her. “It’s just, I know I can’t go on missions right now, I don’t  _like_  it, but I get it…” He did, kind of. From Hera’s point of view, it made sense. “But I need something to do.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper now. There was no reason to be embarrassed by what he was asking, but it was difficult not to feel like he was giving up on learning how to see with the Force. 

That was what other people were going to think, wasn’t it? That he had failed. That he needed to be given another job instead, because he would never be good enough.

Hera pressed her lips into a thin line and looked at him for several moments. Ezra tried to meet her gaze, but his eyes pulled away against his will.

“You’re right,” she said.

“I’m…” It took him a moment to realize that Hera was responding to what he had said — that he did need a job — and not confirming his thoughts; not saying that people would think he was a failure. Still, he hadn’t expected her to say that, and certainly not so readily. Ultimately, the conversation could only have gone one of two ways; either Hera would agree with him, or she wouldn’t. Apparently, in the back of his mind, he had been expecting her to say no.

The room appeared suddenly to have grown unnaturally quiet, as though everybody was holding their breath, waiting; like there was a significance to Hera’s words that he just wasn’t hearing. He turned his head to the left and then to the right, looking around, and found the other occupants of the room just as disinterested in the conversation in the corner as they had been moments earlier. He doubted that anyone was close enough to overhear anyway, not unless they were putting a lot of effort into it. Good. This was nobody’s business but his and Hera’s.

“Uh… Great,” he said. “So… I mean, I was thinking maybe you could put me on the general duty roster or something. You know, I could clean up after meals, tidy up around the base, do laundry, that kinda thing.” He hesitated, picked up his spoon and stirred it around the inside of his bowl. The soup had cooled and was starting to congeal on the top. “I mean, as long as you don’t think it’ll get in the way of what I’m doing with Kanan.”

“It won’t,” Hera promised him. “Your lessons with Kanan are important. Short of him being needed elsewhere on a temporary basis we won’t let anything jeopardize them.”

“Is that going to happen?” He might not be on duty at the moment, but nobody had said he wasn’t allowed to know what was going on with the people who were, especially if those people were important to him. Anything that took Kanan off-base would likely involve the rest of the Ghost crew, and the Ghost itself, and things being as they were right now, he wasn’t sure what that would mean for him. He did live on the ship, after all.

“Nothing’s planned right now. But you’re right, you do need duties around the base, if for no other reason than it’s unfair to everyone else if you don’t.”

He hadn’t thought of that. It was strange, but for all the times he had insisted that he was perfectly fine, it had never occurred to him that someone who was ‘fine’, but did nothing all day, might attract a certain amount of resentment. That hadn’t happened yet; not as far as he had noticed anyway. But then he  _wouldn’t_  notice. Nobody would be stupid or cruel enough to say it where he could hear, and if his friends heard it, they wouldn’t tell him, for the same reason that he hadn’t told Kanan when people had talked about him. Because they had. Not in the very early days after Malachor, but later, in the months that followed, he had heard people wondering out loud why ‘the blind Jedi’ was still on the base; why he was using resources if he couldn’t fight.

They had quickly learned not to talk that way in front of Ezra, and probably in front of any of the Ghost crew.

He couldn’t believe he had forgotten about that.

He didn’t actually  _care_  what people like that thought of him — well, maybe he did a little — but Hera was still right; it wasn’t fair, and he needed to pull his weight.

“We’ll talk about it,” Hera told him. She picked up her datapad and flicked to another file, a day planner, maybe. Ezra forced himself not to squint as he tried to make sense of what he could not quite see there. “I’ll set some time aside with you and Kanan together, and we can think about your options.”

That seemed a little too formal, and too indefinite. He had wanted to do this now. He wanted to leave knowing that tomorrow he would be doing… whatever job she had decided to assign him. Not planning to talk about it at some point in the future.

“Can’t we talk about it now? I can do anything you need,” he blurted before she could start checking her schedule for appointment times. “I could tidy up, or help with construction — the Force is  _great_  for heavy lifting. I’ll even try cooking, if you want. I can’t guarantee it’ll be any good, but I’ve seen it done…”

Hera smiled as she shook her head. “No offense Ezra, but we haven’t had a case of food poisoning on base yet. I  _really_  don’t want to start now.”

That was fair.

“What you need to do is think over your options,” she continued. “Don’t rush this. Pick some roles that you think you’ll enjoy; maybe three or four if you can, because I can’t guarantee your first choice will work out. It doesn’t have to be something you’ve done before, just as long as it’s something you think you’ll be able to do. And something you’ll be able to  _keep_  doing, going forward. If any of the ideas seem feasible, I’ll speak to the department heads and see what we can do.”

Ezra went cold. He stared at her across the table, trying to process what she was saying, but no matter how he replayed it, it sounded like she was thinking of this as a permanent thing. ‘Something he would still be able to do going forward’ didn’t sound like a way to fill a little time until he was fit for his usual duties again.

Hera looked at him, still waiting for a response. Their eyes met for just long enough for him to catch the moment of realization; when she noticed that what he had been asking for, and what she was offering, were not the same thing.

For a second he thought she was going to apologize, backtrack, but then she appeared to steel herself. “I know,” she said. “I know it  _might_  just be for a couple of weeks, or months, but you need to plan for whatever happens. We don’t know if…  _when_  you’re going to be ready to go back to your usual duties. So in the meantime, it makes sense that any alternative role we find should be something you want to do, and something you could do in the long-term as well as the short.”

He shook his head, and used the gesture as a way to check the room, to make sure they weren’t drawing any unwanted attention. He backed away a little, scooting his chair an inch or so back from the table. He couldn’t get up and storm out, that  _would_  be noticed, but he could walk away calmly, once he had said what needed to be said

“I’m not looking for an ‘alternative role’. I  _have_  a role. All I want is something to do while I wait for you to tell me I’m back.”

Hera frowned, then nodded in agreement. “I know. I know that. That’s all I meant; that’s what it would be. Something to do, until you’re ready.”

“Something to do  _instead_ ,” Ezra countered, almost spitting the word at her. He took a deep breath to calm himself, and hoped that his voice hadn’t carried.

Hera remained calm, not unaffected by his outburst, but not goaded into responding in kind. “Wouldn’t it be better to spend the next few months learning a new skill that you’ll be able to use, than to spend the time emptying trash cans and lifting heavy things for other people?”

He considered it. In a way, she was right; of  _course_  that would be better. If he could learn a skill that would actually be useful, maybe even something he enjoyed doing, then he might be able to continue to do it — only when needed, not as a general role — even after he was back on active duty. But that was  _if_  he was back on active duty, and until that was guaranteed, agreeing to this felt too much like giving up.

Worse, it felt like giving other people permission to give up on him.

“Wouldn’t it?” Hera asked again. 

“No. It wouldn’t. Sounds too much like a ‘plan B’.”

Her eyes widened in understanding and her expression softened, as though she had only just thought of that particular interpretation. “That’s not what it is,” she promised him.

But it was. Even if she hadn’t deliberately meant it that way, it must have been there, under the surface, and he didn’t  _need_  that. He didn’t need to learn a new role, because Kanan was going to teach him everything he needed to know. He was a  _Jedi_ , he was wasted doing anything else.

Including, he supposed, odd-jobs around the base.

But that was temporary. That  _felt_  temporary; something to do to pass the time, in between lessons, until he was ready to get back to his real life. If such a thing even still existed.

Why couldn’t everything just go back to the way it had been before?

“Ezra?”

His vision had blurred under a thin layer of tears. He blinked rapidly a few times to clear it.

“Okay,” she said quickly. “Tasks to fill the time. If that’s really what you want, that’s fine.”

But  _was_  that what he wanted? He wasn’t even sure anymore.

“But I want you to think about it overnight,” she added. “You don’t have to decide anything yet. I want you to give some serious thought to what you might  _want_  to do with your time, because I think you’ll be wasted on the general roster. Take your turn, same as everybody, but consider doing something else as well.”

Ezra nodded, he supposed it wouldn’t do any harm to think about it. “What if I can’t come up with anything?”

“You will,” Hera assured him.

Ezra wished he had her confidence. “But what if I can’t?”

He had no ideas. Honestly, he had half-expected Hera to tell him a job wasn’t a good idea. He had thought he might have to fight for the right to do anything other than training with Kanan. Hera had surprised him by agreeing with him, and now she wanted him to come up with three or four jobs he thought he would be able to do both when he could see and when he couldn’t.

Three or four. He couldn’t even think of one.

“Don’t worry if something you want to do might require some element of training,” Hera told him. “We can accommodate that, even though it’s going to be a short-term thing, okay? If there’s anything you want to learn, don’t let a lack of knowledge stand in the way.”

He nodded dully. But of course it wasn’t just knowledge, it was everything else. The hundreds of things that he hadn’t even thought of yet, that were going to stand in his way as his vision deteriorated.

“Yeah, okay,” he heard himself saying.

Hera smiled sympathetically. “Take all the time you need,” she said. “If you haven’t thought of anything by tomorrow, that’s okay. Kanan and I will help. If what you decide on doesn’t work out, we’ll try again.There’s no deadline on this.”

He nodded again.

Hera put down her datapad, the display still open and displaying what Ezra assumed was her schedule for the following day. “While you’re here, there’s one other thing I needed to remind you about,” she said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

Somehow, and he wasn’t sure how; whether the Force told him, or whether he was reading her mind, he knew exactly what she was going to say. He thought of the waiting message flashing on the corner of his datapad and slouched a little further into his seat. “Yeah,” he muttered, looking down into his almost empty bowl. “I know. I’m going to do it.”

He wasn’t looking at her, but he registered her surprise through the Force.

“You meant Noisi, right?” he asked, just to clarify.

Hera nodded. Still looking away, Ezra sensed that too. Not the motion, but the intent behind it. “I’m afraid so.”

“He’s been sending me messages trying to get me to go in.” Probably nervous that he might miss a second of the ‘fascinating’ eye disease he wanted to study. “I was going to send one back later.”

It wasn’t a  _total_  lie. He did plan to message back, and it would be later, just not later today. Later in the week, maybe later in the month, but he definitely wasn’t going to do it now. One unpleasant thing per day. Maybe he could find the energy to do it tomorrow, depending how the job talk with Kanan and Hera went.

Although her expression gave nothing away, he could tell through the Force that Hera didn’t believe him. He wasn’t surprised; she knew him, and his track record in making appointments with Noisi spoke for itself.

She frowned. “I’m sorry,” she said, and appeared to mean it. “I know you don’t like the droid, and I don’t blame you. If I could justify a transfer, I’d get another medic in a heartbeat, but the one we have is an eye specialist, and given the circumstances…” She let the words trail off, the conclusion obvious.

She was right, he supposed. It wouldn’t make sense to transfer out a specialist and transfer in some field medic who had never even heard of Sacul Syndrome.

He still wished she’d do it anyway. It wasn’t like Noisi could actually do anything to help. Short of a catastrophic malfunction, the only thing that was going to get the droid off the base was someone, somewhere else, finding themself in the same position as either him or Kanan, and as much as he wanted Noisi gone, Ezra wasn’t about to wish that on anybody.

“You don’t have to go on your own,” Hera reminded him.

“I know. I’ll be fine.” Ezra assured her. “And I’ll tell him you and Kanan are allowed to access my records, too,” he added; that was one of the things she had asked him to do, in addition to going to appointments, so that the information she would be able to get from the droid would be accurate. He didn’t like it. It made him feel exposed

Hera nodded. “Thank you. We’ll only use it when we have to, I promise.” She switched off the datapad, the screen went blank. “How are you?” she asked. “Apart from all this? I don’t think I’ve spoken to you since…” she hesitated.

“Since we all had dinner.”

She nodded. 

“Honestly?” Ezra said. “This morning I was bored. Then I was hungry. Now, I’m mostly worried about what job I’m going to end up doing. But hey, at least that means I’m not worrying about that appointment, right?” He grinned widely, and hoped he was convincing. He hadn’t actually meant to be that honest.

Hera smiled too, but what he could sense through the Force didn’t back up what he was seeing. It made the expression seem as hollow as his own. “We’ll come up with something,” she promised. Then, a hint of amusement flickered in her Force signature. “If not, AP-5 needs someone to help with his inventorying. Chopper’s been doing it, but AP-5 isn’t happy with him. He thinks you might be less likely to insult him.”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “To his face, maybe. Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that one.”

“I thought you might.”

He picked up his bowl. The last bits of soup inside were cold and unappetizing. He almost finished it anyway; years on the street had taught him that food was food and if it wasn’t going to make you sick, you ate it. He resisted the urge, reminded himself that he didn’t have to think that way anymore.

“I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.” he said. “Where will I find you, here? Or another hiding place?”

Hera’s smile this time at least felt genuine, even if there was the slightest hint of irritation behind it. “I’ll find you,” she told him. “And I’m not hiding, I’m working.” She paused, then shrugged. “In secret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are loved. Every single one.


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